


I'll Picture You

by royal_chandler



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Extended Scene, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_chandler/pseuds/royal_chandler
Summary: Even with having no idea where he'll land, Steve takes a jump.





	I'll Picture You

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from listening to Mumford and Sons' "Picture You" endlessly. 
> 
> Much thanks to [misbehavingvigilante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavingvigilante) for giving this a read-through. Any mistakes are strictly my own.

“You know an astute individual may have guessed that you’re the last thing I want to see when I wake up.”

“I don’t much care.”

“The balls on you.” Tony makes an unimpressed noise and takes another sip from his cup of water. “I have half a mind to throw this right in your face.”

With a flare of pride, Steve studies the grip Tony has on the water, how his fingers tighten. He’s getting stronger, sitting up on his own, and Steve couldn’t help the small smile if he wanted to. “You definitely could.”

“Yeah but I won’t. Going without for three weeks might’ve lended some perspective.”

A quiet settles between them and even if were tensionless and easy, it’s still a luxury that Steve can’t afford. The team gave him time to watch over Tony but he can’t steal much more than he already has. He’s memorized the edges of Tony--the new lines and shift of paper-skin and the rise and fall of his chest washed under the warm light--fully intent on keeping the picture until it branded the back of his eyelids. That way he could take it with him into the dark. 

“We found Thanos.”

Tony’s startled eyes sweep over Steve’s uniform as if he’s seeing for the first time. Then they flash furious at Steve and it’s like his anger from hours ago has caught fire.

“What the hell are you doing? What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re gonna make this right.”

“You stubborn son of a bitch. He will kill you,” Tony grits out. “Do you understand that?”

The water in the cup rocks over the brim and Steve grabs at it before it can soak the bed. He sets it aside, checks over the IV and the beeps of the monitoring devices. He takes Tony’s unsteady and too-thin hand. He’s pleased that Tony doesn’t wrench it away, that he gets to keep holding on. He fixes his eyes to Tony’s and it’s difficult to stay resolute under the shade of his hurt, the weight of betrayal there. “I have to do this. You know that.”

“No, what I know is that I saw you, and Nat, and Thor. Dead. All of you were dead. And it wasn’t just some nightmare, Steve. I saw it. I got a sneak peak into the future and I felt your pulse stop under my fingers. It was as real as you are now. You were dying and you blamed me.”

Steve silently wonders how many fault lines his heart can withstand. He breathes, the release a physical ache. He’s painfully lost on how to make this okay, how to make Tony understand. “I would never, Tony. That’s not real because I couldn’t ever do that to you.”

“I told you to hide and I meant it. You won’t come back. You can’t go because if you do, you will not come back,” Tony stresses, speaking over Steve as if he said nothing and _years_ glass his gaze, sadness and resignation that predates Ultron. God, it’s been so long.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That I never understood. I wish I’d known.” He wishes Tony had felt he could talk to him, that they’d trusted each other more. They’re both guilty of leaving things unsaid. Steve thinks it’s time to stop hoping that actions will simply speak for themselves. “But Tony, I’m not here for your permission,” Steve tells him, aiming for a steel-draped kindness. “And I really don’t want to fight with you over this. When I prayed—” 

He swallows but the everything still comes out unchewed and dense. He’s never allowed himself to practice, to hope that he’d get to say this, especially not in the past twenty-three days. “When I prayed to see you again, if by some miracle I ever did, I said I’d take you however I could get you. I’d take your anger and your hate. If you never spoke to me again, I’d take your silence. I’d take every fight with you and never grow tired of them. But you’re right. I’m a liar. Because I’m tired already. I’m exhausted. I’m sitting here and a fight with you is so far from what I want, Tony. It doesn’t make sense to be fighting you here and going to a fight up there.”

“Oh yeah? Well what do you want? One last heartfelt show of solidarity to bury the hatchet before you go into that good night? Should I say I’m sorry? Are you gonna say you’re sorry? What exactly are we doing here, Cap? Because apparently you have no vested interest in—”

“I want to say that love you,” Steve interrupts.

“—your own self-preservation. Jesus, _what._ ” Tony’s words skid to an unceremonious stop and take a few tries to get back up. “Excuse me?”

It’s harder to say the second time around. No one’s ever let him in on that part of the jump, how much softer the vulnerability gets, how bare he feels but Steve screws up the courage. Again, louder, his voice terrible, “I love you. So much, Tony.”

In the forever-stretch of a second that it takes for Tony to respond, Steve sees alternate universes of how his confession is received, each one progressively pear-shaped and awful. He can’t imagine the wonder that comes over Tony’s face but it’s there. Steve tracks every detail of it. The wordless, soft open of Tony’s mouth and the twisting ticks around it, the wince of his eyes and how it spikes his lashes with tears.

“Since when?” Tony asks, the tone pale. “Fuck, since when?"

“Honestly, I can barely remember not loving you. There’s the past, the ice, and then you. I think it was happening before I had any idea what it was. You’re so--but there was always some form of distance between us. Miles. That or we couldn’t stand each other. And you were with Pepper and I couldn’t. Not matter how much I wanted to.” And Steve probably won’t ever think back on that without shame or hurt. It burns from his eyes all the way down to his guts. He helplessly shrugs. “I thought it best that you didn’t know.”

“Yeah but then I wasn’t with--”

“Until you were again.”

“--and now I’m not. No. I’m not buying it.” Tony shakes his head as if trying to clear it. “Just--no. There’s no way. Steve, I’m telling you. I would have noticed.”

“You didn’t.”

“How could I not have when I was looking at you the entire time?”

And it’s Steve’s turn to wonder and soon every moment they’ve ever shared jars him open and shakes him up hard, unsticks and pieces together everything that he didn’t want to look at wholly. The times he felt a prickling on his neck from behind, the glances that lasted and lasted until they shied away, the touches that seamlessly shifted from shades of enmity to something far beyond fraternity, like they’ve always been familiar, smoothing down patches of arms and over hearts. For a second time, a revelation of love settles inside of Steve.

Tony’s name punches out of him when he rises from the bedside chair; it covers the distance between them. He only lets go of Tony’s hand to hold him by the jaw, brush his fingers over the rasp of his beard and thread the other into his hair, and to finally kiss the incredulous set of his mouth. 

Steve means to keep it careful and taming but Tony is having none of it, his hold challenging kevlar and his tongue impatient. Steve opens up to him and goes with the demanding pace, the push and pull. Their greed for each other leaves little room for grace and they leave marks behind, lips swollen, stealing keepsakes with teeth and sucking mouths. 

Kiss-stung and clutched by want and how right it feels, Steve bows his forehead down to rest against Tony’s after.

“The balls on you,” Tony repeats, sighing a laugh and his touch still traveling Steve's front.

“Are you kidding? I’m terrified,” Steve admits, trembling all the way through, everywhere. He can’t keep still at all. The happiness is so fragile and new. He skims his palms against whatever he can reach, past the limits he’d set before.

“Yeah? And where do you think I’m at? You make me feel like a fucking piñata, Cap.” Tony says. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says with every ounce of truth he has left.

“I should’ve called you the minute shit went sideways.”

“There’d been no need if I’d been there in the first place.”

“Yeah, I think so. Still. I’m sorry, too.” Tony pushes up and steers Steve into another kiss, catches every corner of skin, even his chin. “And I love you. That should be said. Can’t forget that. I can’t let you--”

A throat clears from the outside of the room before he can finish. Steve doesn’t know who it is. Frankly, he doesn’t care. He can only see Tony because time isn’t about seeking more, it’s about what he has right now in his hands and doing something with it. He won’t break away until the very second that he has to.

“You gotta go,” Tony says after a moment.

Steve nods and scrapes out, “Yes. I don’t have a choice.” To acknowledge one feels selfish. He can’t do that yet. Not until he’s done all that he can. “You should try and get some more sleep.”

“No, I’ll wait up for you.” Tony scuffs his thumb to Steve’s cheek, memorizing, and like bookmarking a moment to return to, Steve kisses him again.

**fin**

**Author's Note:**

> No one can convince me that Endgame didn't practically make pining!Stony canon. This is Steve taking that jump he talked about in the support group scene five years earlier. 
> 
> This is also canon divergent because in this story, Pepper and Tony's on again-off again is off.


End file.
